260 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



forty years, it is some five or six miles from shore to shore 

 near Potosi, the main channel of the river being on the 

 Iowa side. On the Wisconsin shore the Grant River 

 came in, and there was a lot of wooded islands along 

 there with channels of all degrees of swiftness between 

 them. In the days of which I write the ducks congre- 

 gated here in great numbers in spring and fall. We 

 were well out, and preferred to stay on the island than to 

 row over to the mainland. After supper I told Henry 

 that I had never slept on any of these islands in duck time, 

 and if he did not object we would not light our night 

 fire until after dark, so that we could see the ducks come 

 in. It was about half an hour before sundown, and some 

 of the flocks began to arrive, and such a babel! The 

 heavy mallards would come in, back wind with their 

 wings and drop down with a splash, and then the loud- 

 voiced females would raise a din. Swift bluebills and 

 butterballs would rush over our heads, circle around and 

 settle down. The swiftest of all ducks, the little green- 

 winged teal, would suddenly appear from nowhere, and 

 splash down into the water without circling about, com- 

 ing into it much as a stone would. The high-voiced 

 widgeon, the bass of the frogs, the heavy quack of the 

 mallard and the lighter one of the bluewing, which 

 sounded like an echo, and the curious burr! of the blue- 

 bill made a concert to be remembered. The pond might 

 have covered three acres, and two thousand ducks, at 

 least, rested on it that night. We did not try to shoot 

 any, for we thought we could get what we wanted any 

 time. After dark we lighted our fire, but it did not seem 

 to disturb the ducks. Our talk was not heard in the 

 racket they kept up, and we turned in on our bed of 

 leaves. Frank said that several birds or flocks flew 

 around our fire in the night, but Henry and I slept too 



